


With All My Love

by ChucklesCPfic



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 04:52:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChucklesCPfic/pseuds/ChucklesCPfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom, Valentine's Day and an anonymous gift. (Basically, just a bit of nonsense for Valentine's Day. Written February 2016)</p><p>This is my first new C/P fic for 11 years, so I hope you'll excuse my rustiness! (I just needed to do something silly and simple to ease me back into writing.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	With All My Love

Title: With All My Love  
Author: Chuckles  
Pairing: C/P  
Rating: NC-17

 

Harry Kim ambled away from the bar and steadily made his way to the back of Sandrine's. Sitting down across the table from his friend, he pushed one of the drinks towards him. “You okay, Tom? You look a bit flustered.”

Tom Paris looked up and gave a weary sigh. “Women,” he said, grabbing the beer and taking a healthy swig. “They've all gone crazy.”

“Crazy?” Harry grinned and put down his glass, looking quizzically at Tom. “How have they gone crazy?”

“Haven't you noticed?”

“I can't say I have. Explain.”

“Still two fucking weeks to go and they've all got Valentine's fever,” Tom grumbled, taking another gulp of his drink. “I'm sick of it.”

Harry laughed. “I thought you liked this time of year, Tom. All that love on offer....”

“Love?” Tom gave a disgusted snort. “None of them are interested in _love_.”

“I'll have to disagree with you there,” Harry said, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. “I bet you nearly every woman on the ship would love to have some love in their life. In fact,” he added, “most of the guys would, too.”

“Yeah, well, true love isn't gonna happen for most of us, is it? Especially me.”

“That's a bit pessimistic, Tom. What's got into you?”

“Nothing.”

“Something has,” Harry insisted. “You're acting like no one cares about you.”

“Maybe that's because they don't.” Tom leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. “Wake me up when Valentine's Day's over.”

Harry sighed and took a sip of his beer. It looked like he might have two weeks of melancholy on his hands if he couldn't nip it in the bud tonight. 

“There are plenty of people who care for you on this ship, Tom. You know that, don't you?”

Tom's only answer was a lethargic shrug of his shoulders.

“Megan, Jenny, Sue....”

A dismissive snort followed each of his suggestions.

“What about Seven?”

Tom opened his eyes and just stared silently at Harry.

“B'Elanna cares about you, y'know.”

“I suppose you're gonna suggest the Captain next.”

Harry shook his head in exasperation. “Well of course the Captain cares about you. She's always been fond of you.”

Tom picked up his glass and drained it. “There's caring, and then there's love, Harry. Real, honest-to-God _love_. Maybe one or two of them _do_ care, but no one _loves_ me. No one's _ever_ going to _really love me_.”

“God, Tom. You need to pull yourself together,” Harry said, worriedly. “And, maybe, instead of just waiting for love to come to you, you should go out and look for it. There must be someone you're interested in.”

“No one who's interested back,” Tom answered sharply.

“So there _is_ someone.”

Tom got to his feet and grabbed the empty glass. “I'm tired, Harry. I'm gonna have an early night. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

Harry sighed and watched him go. “Great,” he muttered. “Unless something happens to cheer him up, we're all gonna suffer two weeks of living hell.”

 

xxxxx

 

Well, what a wonderful week _that_ was, Harry thought as he threw himself onto the couch in his quarters. 

For the last seven days, every trip to the mess hall had ended with Tom either stressed and running off, or on the verge of having a tantrum. It seemed every woman on Voyager wanted his advice on what to give their partners.... 

Neelix hadn't helped, either, trying to get Tom to help him organise the Valentine's party that was going to be held in Sandrine's at the end of the week. 

Then, the men had started asking Tom's advice as well, wanting to know if they should give chocolates or flowers or clothes – and which types were suitable – and....

Well, each day had been worse than the one before. And he, Harry, still wasn't any closer to finding out who Tom was interested in. 

Damn!

Worse than all the harassment he'd received, though, was that with each passing day Tom had become more and more convinced that no one cared about him. No one loved him or would ever love him – not in the proper sense of the word, anyway. Or, at least, Tom's interpretation of it. 

And he just wouldn't listen to anyone who said differently.

God knows, Harry had tried. B'Elanna had tried, too - although that was probably doomed from the start. She just hadn't been able to control her temper once Tom's self-pity really kicked in. She'd almost hit him several times, and, on one occasion, actually had.

The look on Commander Chakotay's face when Tom landed at his feet by the bar was one Harry would remember for a long, long time. Almost as long as he'd remember the look on Tom's face as the pilot suddenly realised just whose legs he'd grabbed onto to pull himself upright. There was no way Tom could have got any redder.

It was only because Tom had refused to press charges that B'Elanna hadn't ended up in the brig. Well, that and the fact Chakotay had let it drop, too. He'd obviously noticed what a basket case Tom had become and couldn't really blame B'Elanna for what she'd done. The Commander must have been in an exceptionally good mood that night, though, because he hadn't even reprimanded Tom for clambering all over him....

But Valentine's Day was still a week away.

Normally, things improved with time, but Harry knew this wasn't going to happen. It was only going to get worse. 

“God help us all.”

 

xxxxx

 

The mess hall seemed pretty lively, considering it was breakfast time.

Tom glanced apprehensively at the crowd as he walked to the counter, taking note of who was in, and scowling now and again as he overheard references to Valentine's Day. It seemed it wasn't just the women who'd gone crazy over the last week - most of the men had, too. What the hell was wrong with everyone?

Shaking his head, he grabbed the safest looking food option and carried his plate to Harry and B'Elanna's table, seating himself opposite them. They were in the middle of a heated discussion and didn't even notice his arrival, so Tom left them to it while he ate and continued his perusal of the room.

Ayala still looked normal, he thought. The dark-haired Lieutenant was sitting alone at a corner table, completely engrossed in his meal. No sign of Valentine's fever there.

And Dalby, on the next table. Well, he looked as normal as he was ever going to be....

And then there was Tuvok, one table across. Maybe Vulcans only suffered Valentine's fever once every seven years....

Tom took a bite of his food and let his gaze slowly travel to the opposite corner of the hall.

Voyager's First Officer sat there, also alone. He'd obviously brought work with him, a pile of reports stacked neatly next to his plate. No fever there, either. But then, the idea of the Commander getting caught up in the madness was ludicrous. He'd never let his control slip like that, even though half the ship was probably secretly lusting after him. After all, you'd have to be dead not to see how gorgeous the guy was. Broad, muscular body; soft, dark hair; tantalising full lips; and a deep, penetrating gaze that... was currently trained on him.

Tom ducked his head and looked down at his plate, a hint of pink colouring his face as he realised he'd been caught staring. He was grateful that Harry chose that moment to acknowledge his presence and help distract his thoughts from straying to what had happened in Sandrine's a couple of nights ago. God, he'd been embarrassed - amongst other things - finding his arms wrapped around Chakotay's knees, his face pressed against the older man's thigh, his mouth enticingly close to.... Time to forget about that for the moment, though, Harry was speaking to him.

“Morning, Tom.”

“Morning.”

“So... how's things?” Harry asked tentatively, peripherally aware of B'Elanna nodding her own curt greeting at Tom before grimacing at the insipid blob of food remaining on her plate. “Feeling any better today?” 

Tom opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by an unwelcome squeal coming from just over his left shoulder.

“Tom!” Megan Delaney bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm so glad you're here! I need your help.”

Tom gave a resigned sigh and put down his fork. “Help with what?”

“Well,” Megan began, sitting and twisting to face him, “I want to give the special man in my life a Valentine's gift and....”

“And I'm definitely _not_ the person to talk to about that,” Tom cut her off. “Ask Harry. I've got to get going.”

“But, Tom,” Megan protested, grabbing his arm as he rose, “you're the only one who can help me.” She batted her eyelids at him and smiled seductively. “C'mon, Tom. _Please_. You know how much I _love_ you.”

“There's that word again, Harry. The one that means absolutely _nothing_ ,” Tom said, pulling his arm free and snatching his plate off the table. “Wonder how many more times I'll hear it. Wanna start taking bets?” He hurried off, disposing of his half-eaten meal before dashing out of the door, just as Megan's sister tried attracting his attention. 

xxxxx

The bridge was quieter than it had been in a long while, Captain Janeway thought, as she looked over her senior officers. There hadn't been a peep out of Tom all morning. Nothing from Harry either, just the occasional scrutinising glance in the direction of the helm when the Ensign knew Tom wasn't looking.

Chakotay had been quiet, too. Even quieter than normal, she observed. He seemed lost in thought and she wondered what was going on in his head. He was hard to read at the best of times, though, and this time was no different. Perhaps he was just enjoying the break from Tom's teasing.

Still, the silence was unnatural and it was starting to grate on her nerves. The crew always worked well together, and they seemed to do even better when there was a bit of banter on the bridge, so maybe she should start a light conversation herself....

“So, Valentine's Day is in a week's time,” she began. “Who's looking forward to it?”

There wasn't a single reply.

xxxxx

 

Tom sat in his quarters, determined to hide out there until after lunch. He really needed a break from all the Valentine's nonsense. 

“Thank fuck it's only once a year,” he muttered, clearing the remnants of his meal away. With the dishes disposed of, he walked to the couch and flopped down. “Stupid fucking Valentine's Day. Stupid fucking _love_.”

He snorted and shook his head. Everyone was delusional. They seemed to think love was something wonderful – something that filled your heart and soul with deep, abiding joy and happiness. 

“Yeah, well. Maybe. _If_ it's reciprocated.”

He closed his eyes. 

It was probably unfair of him to keep taking his frustrations out on everyone else, he thought. Just because he couldn't ever have what he wanted, he shouldn't really spoil it for the rest of them.

But, _fuck_ it was hard to be cheerful.

“The next week's gonna be even more like hell,” he sighed, getting up to go back on duty. “Pure, unadulterated, loveless hell!”

 

xxxxx

 

He couldn't believe he'd let Harry talk him into spending another night at Sandrine's.

The place was packed. Especially the bar area. People were having to virtually fight their way through to get served. Oh, joy!

Perhaps a proper fight would break out; that would take everyone's mind off fucking Valentine's Day for a while!

Maybe he'd instigate it.

Or maybe not. 

Chakotay was present again tonight; no way in hell was he gonna be seen brawling in front of _him_. 

Fuck! 

Pushing his way over to the pool table, Tom decided maybe winning a few credits would be a pleasant distraction.

“Hey, Harry. Fancy a game?”

“Yeah.” Harry struggled to reach his side. “But no bets. I'm broke.”

Double fuck!

“No worries. We'll just play for fun.” And my sanity, Tom added silently.

“Okay.”

They had to wait fifteen minutes for the table, and then only managed one game because of the high demand for it. There seemed to be no side-bets going on, either; it appeared everyone was broke.

“Fucking Valentine's Day! Fucking Valentine's Day _gifts!_ ” 

No one had any credits left because of _fucking Valentine's Day!_

_Triple fuck!_

“I've had enough of this place, Harry. I'm going home.”

 

xxxxx

 

When Tom awoke next morning he was more than glad he had the day off. He would spend the entire time in his locked quarters and avoid the madness.

But, first things first, he needed to clean up. His clothes from last night were scattered everywhere. He'd tossed them around the room in a fit of pique.

“Nothing like giving yourself extra work,” he muttered, as he retrieved his crumpled shirt from the back of the couch. 

A shoe sat on one of the cushions, its partner on the floor beneath the table – this one had a sock in it. Sighing, he pulled it out and placed the shoes by the door, throwing the sock on the table-top with his shirt.

“What the fuck did I do with my trousers? And my jacket? And where's my other sock?”

He found the errant sock on a shelf, on top of a pile of vids. His trousers... well, he must have walked over them when he left the bedroom, because they were lying in a heap in the doorway.

Just the jacket now.

It took him a while, but he finally found that in the bathroom, on the toilet. “Thank God the lid was down.”

He grabbed it roughly by the bottom edge and frowned when something fell out of one of the pockets and clattered to the floor. He picked it up and looked at it. 

“What the hell...?”

He turned the small, black box around in his hands a few times before cautiously easing the lid off. A miniature scroll, tied with deep blue ribbon, sat just inside, resting on a white foam pad. His frown deepening, he wandered out to the living area and dropped onto the couch.

Carefully, he untied the ribbon. The parchment sprung open into loose coils as soon as the ribbon was released, and he gently flattened it out against his thigh. There was writing on it. Beautiful handwriting. Someone had taken a lot of care with this. He held it up to read it.

“Fucking hell.”

His face was white with shock as he read it again:

 

_Tom,_

_Although it's unlikely that I'll ever be able to say this to you in person, I want you to know something: you are loved – most definitely loved, albeit from afar - and you have been for a very long time. _

_I hope my small gift will remind you of this if you ever again think otherwise_.

_With all my love_

 

With nervous fingers, and a good deal of apprehension, he pulled the pad from the box and looked beneath.

“Oh, my God!” The long gold chain sparkled as he picked it up and... “A ring! A fucking _beautiful_ ring!”

Stunned, he sagged against the back of the couch, the ring and chain in one trembling hand, the scroll and box in the other, and his eyes wide and blurry with suppressed tears.

“Who the _hell_ is this from?! And why give it to me now? It's not even Valentine's Day yet.”

 

xxxxx

 

“Tom? Are you in there? Tom?” Harry rang the door chime again. “Come on, Tom, let me in. I'm back on duty in half an hour.”

There was a weak, muffled “Enter” from inside the cabin and the door finally slid open. Harry strode briskly in. “What took you so long? People were starting to stare at me and....” He stopped speaking as he noticed Tom's very pale face. His friend looked like he was in shock. “Tom, what's up? What's happened?” Getting no reply, besides a vacant stare, he knelt in front of the silent man and asked again. “What's wrong, Tom? Tell me.” 

Tom couldn't speak at first. His mind had gone into meltdown over the last hour, trying to work out who'd given him such a beautiful gift, and just how the hell it had come to be in his jacket pocket. He'd kept that jacket on all the time he was in Sandrine's last night. He hadn't once taken it off. Not once.

The immediate question now, though, was did he want to tell any of this to Harry?

Harry was looking at his face - he hadn't seemed to notice anything else yet, so....

With a great deal of willpower, and more than a little experience from the many stressful situations he'd often found himself in before, Tom hurriedly pulled himself together. “Sorry, Harry,” he said, surreptitiously dropping everything onto his lap and covering it with his hands. “I've had a rough morning. I didn't mean to leave you in the corridor. It's just... well, it's just the dreams, I....”

“Oh, hell, Tom. Don't tell me you're having nightmares again.”

Tom shrugged.

“Maybe you should see the Doc.”

“Nah.” Tom emphatically shook his head. “I'll be all right. I'm just gonna have a quiet afternoon. I'll be right as rain again later. You'll see.”

“Are you sure?”

Tom nodded. “I'm sure.”

“Well, promise you'll comm me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will, Harry. But I doubt I'll need to. I'll be fine.”

“That's what you always say.”

“And I'm always fine.”

“Tom...”

“Look, Harry, I'm really sorry I worried you, but I need to catch up on some sleep. Maybe I'll see you later, okay?”

Harry nodded reluctantly. “Okay. But don't forget...”

“I won't. I promise.”

“Okay.”

With that Harry got up and left, taking one last long look at Tom before the door closed behind him

Tom brought out the ring from its hiding place and held it in the palm of his hand, looking at it speculatively.

Could it really be true that someone actually loved him?

 

xxxxx

 

Tom sighed as he removed the last of his clothes and turned on the shower. The feel of warm water on his exhausted body was welcome and relaxing. Leaning against the wall as he quickly washed, he thought about what he'd done that afternoon, after he'd finally straightened up his cabin.

Lists.

First, he'd made a list of every woman on the ship he'd had even the merest hint of intimacy with - only to find not a single name jumped out at him that even remotely suggested they could be the gift's sender. Virtually none of his liaisons had ever been that serious - either on his side or theirs. And the one or two that had been, had burned out, never to be rekindled.

Next, he'd made a list of all the women he thought might be interested in him but hadn't done anything about it.

It hadn't been a particularly long list, and none of those seemed likely candidates, either. Nevertheless, he'd mentally assessed each name - on both lists - over and over and over, just to be sure of his conclusion. And found it hadn't altered. He still had no idea of the gift giver's identity.

He'd toyed with the idea of making a list of any men he thought might be interested in him, but hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. There was only one name he wanted on that list and it could never appear there. The guy just wasn't interested in him, and he was painfully aware of it. He couldn't stand the idea that maybe a different man had sent the gift, so dismissed the idea entirely.

Turning off the water, Tom got out, dried himself off and wandered out to the living area. Going to the table, he took another look at what he'd been given.

No matter who it was from, the ring was _still_ fucking gorgeous.

Gold – he'd already used a tricorder to check it – decorated all around the outside with two, delicate, intertwined vines, each tiny leaf perfectly depicted. Somebody's replicator rations must have taken a serious hit! 

A perfect fit, too. He'd tried it on and found it comfortably fit the ring finger of either hand....

The chain was gold, as well. 

Whoever had sent it had given him an option, he realised. He could, if he wanted to, wear the ring either on his finger or on the chain around his neck, concealed beneath his clothes.

The choice was entirely up to him.

“Considerate,” Tom murmured. “That's a pretty good trait in a lover.”

And the note...

“Beautiful handwriting. Must be someone who takes pride in what they do.”

And the words...

“Short and to the point, yet kinda forceful. Insistent. But the sender doesn't seem to expect anything in return.” Tom smiled. “So, altruistic as well as considerate.... Nice.”

God, he'd _love_ to know who it was. 

Maybe it was time to give up on unrequited love and be grateful that at least he seemed to have a chance with someone else – with someone who said they loved him. Okay, the message indicated they'd probably never speak in person, but he could ignore that little problem for now. Maybe, once he knew who it was, things might change. Perhaps the person was just a little timid. Well, that was okay; he'd take the initiative, if he had to.

Going back to the bathroom, he looked into the mirror as he placed the chain around his neck, the ring twisting back and forth until it finally fell flat against his chest and lay there, resting against his pale skin.

Perhaps after a good night's sleep he'd have better luck in tracking down his 'admirer'.

Turning off the light, he headed to bed.

 

xxxxx

 

“Well, you seem better today,” Harry said, as Tom joined him in the turbolift, on the way to start their shift.

“I feel much better,” Tom confirmed, while Harry stated their destination and the lift began to move. “And I feel like going to Sandrine's again tonight. Wanna join me?”

“Yeah. Why not? I still don't have enough credits to play with, though.”

“That's okay. I'm not really in the mood for pool, anyway.”

Harry frowned at him. “You just want to sit and drink?”

“Just a bit of socialising, Harry. And, yeah, a drink or two.”

And a chance to scrutinise the crew and see if anyone would treat him differently. Maybe they'd slip up and he'd find out the identity of his mystery gift-giver. He wasn't about to tell Harry _that_ , though.

“I've been a bit grumpy lately. Thought I'd make it up to everyone.”

The lift stopped and the doors opened onto the bridge.

“So, meet you for dinner first?”

Harry nodded. “Sure.”

Janeway turned around in time to see Tom clap Harry on the back before they headed to their stations, both smiling.

“Good morning, Captain, Commander,” Tom greeted them, as he bounded down and took his seat. “I feel like it's gonna be a good day today, don't you?”

“Well, I hope so, Lieutenant,” Janeway said with a smile. It was good to see Tom acting more like himself again, she thought. “But I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, “I guess we will.”

 

xxxxx

 

It was good, right up until after dinner....

“I've just got to pick up some stuff from sickbay, Harry. I'll see you in Sandrine's, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Sure, Tom. See you there. Don't be too long, though.” 

“I won't. I'm gonna get changed first, then go see the Doc. Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes.”

“Okay. I'll have a beer waiting for you. See you in a while.”

“Bye Harry.”

After rushing to his quarters and exchanging his uniform for black jeans and short-sleeved shirt, Tom set off for sickbay. He stepped through the doors just as the computer called out that an emergency transport was in progress.

Chakotay appeared on one of the biobeds and Tom and the EMH rushed over to his side.

“Shit! He's been hit in the chest by something. Is he gonna be okay?”

The Doctor didn't answer straight away, he just began the essential task of checking the unconscious Commander's vital signs.

“What happened to him?” Tom asked, shakily. “And do you want me to stay and help?”

“Your assistance would be most useful, Mr. Paris. I need to get him stabilised. You can start by removing what's left of the Commander's jacket and shirt. Just cut them off and put them in the recycler. ”

“Okay.” 

Tom picked up a large pair of scissors and began his task, as B'Elanna came rushing through the door.

“How is he? Is he going to be all right?”

“I'll know more shortly, Lieutenant Torres,” the Doctor answered. “In the meantime, perhaps you can tell me exactly what happened.”

“He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” B'Elanna said, watching as Tom carefully removed the remains of the Commanders uniform jacket and dropped it on the floor. “He'd just stopped by for a chat when one of the conduits exploded. He was standing right in front of it. I'd only just got the access panel off.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair. “If I'd left it just one more minute the panel would've contained the blast.... I didn't know. I had no idea how bad the problem was, I....”

“Lieutenant. I'm sure there is no point in blaming yourself.”

“But is he going to be okay?”

“Most probably. But I need you to leave now so that I can work on his injuries. I'll let you know how he is once I've finished.”

“Okay. But I want to know the minute you do.”

“He's a really strong guy, B'Elanna,” Tom said, trying to reassure her – and also himself. “He'll be okay. I _know_ he will. I'm sure the Doc'll fix him up in no time.”

B'Elanna nodded and reluctantly started for the door. “Just keep me updated, okay?”

“Okay.”

With B'Elanna gone, Tom cut the last of Chakotay's shirt off. The Commander's usually smooth chest was covered in multiple burns and patches of seared and melted fabric.

“Fuck, that looks bad.”

“Fortunately, Mr. Paris,” the EMH said, running the medical tricorder over his patient, “looks can sometimes be deceiving. Commander Chakotay appears to have sustained no injuries that give me any real cause for concern.”

“So, he'll be okay then?”

“Of course. Now, if you wouldn't mind clearing up that mess on my floor....”

Tom let out a relieved sigh. Chakotay would be okay. He was going to be all right. Thank fuck for that!

“Sure, Doc. I'll get on it right away.”

Tom gathered up the remnants of Chakotay's uniform and headed for the recycler. As he started disposing of the pieces, something lumpy caught his attention. Delving amongst the cloth, he pulled out a small black pouch. It had been concealed in a pocket inside the left-hand side of the jacket. There was something inside but he didn't think it would be right to open it. Chakotay wouldn't want his privacy invaded. Although, Tom did have to wonder why the pocket was there; it wasn't part of the standard uniform.

Stuffing the pouch in his jeans for the moment, he disposed of the rest of the material and went back to help the Doctor.

The Captain walked in moments later, and Tom began his newly designated task of cleaning and regenerating Chakotay's less severe injuries, while the EMH apprised the Captain of the situation.

“Fuck, Chakotay,” Tom muttered while he worked. “You shouldn't do this to me, y'know? I hate it when you get injured.” He slowly and carefully ran the regenerator over the unconscious man's left shoulder and upper chest. “You scared me, d'you know that?” He sighed heavily. “No. I guess you don't. Never mind. It's okay. The Doc'll have you up and about in no time at all, so everything's all right. I'll stay with you for a while, though, just to make sure. You won't mind too much, will you? You know, me being here? I know I'm....”

“Mr. Paris.”

Tom looked up to see the EMH peering at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“Do you not think the Commander deserves a break from your incessant chatter? Especially when he's injured.”

“I was only....”

“No excuses, Mr. Paris. Either work quietly or not at all. After all, I am more than capable of dealing with this on my own now. Your services are no longer really needed.”

“I'll work quietly, Doc.”

“Good.”

Tom's comm badge chirped.

Glancing warily up at the EMH, he put down the regenerator he'd been using and quickly hit his badge. “Paris here.” 

“Are you gonna be much longer, Tom?,” Harry enquired. “Your beer's getting pretty warm, y'know.”

“Ah, yeah, the beer.... Look, Harry, I'm really sorry, but I can't make it.” Tom picked up the regenerator again and carefully resumed his work. “There's been an emergency in sickbay. I'm helping out.”

“Oh, shit. Who's hurt?”

“The Commander,” Tom responded with an unhappy sigh. “Electrical and plasma burns to the chest.”

“Will he be all right?”

“Yeah, Harry. Doc says he'll be fine. There's still some patching up to do though, so I'm gonna stay for a while.”

“Okay. Do you want to meet up later?”

Tom stood still a moment and evaluated the silent man on the biobed, his eyes travelling over the newly regenerated skin on the upper part of Chakotay's broad chest and comparing it with the ugly red and raw burns beneath. “I don't think so, Harry,” he answered quietly. “I'm not really in the mood for it any more.”

“I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Night, Tom.”

“Night.”

 

xxxxx

 

The EMH finally turfed Tom out of sickbay two hours later. The Commander was still unconscious, but his burns had been regenerated and there was no reason the Doctor could see for Tom's continuing presence.

Unable to think of a good enough excuse to stay, Tom had reluctantly left, making his way back to his quarters, where he immediately threw himself down on the bed.

Fuck, he was tired. 

And not just physically. His mental resources were almost depleted, too. It tore him apart seeing Chakotay get injured. Even the knowledge that he'd be okay didn't help much. Because, one of these times.... One of these times he might not get better and....

“Fuck, Tom! Get that thought out of your head, _now!_ ”

Still dressed, he crawled under the sheets, dragged a pillow over his head and willed himself to sleep.

 

xxxxx

 

The bridge was once again quiet.

Tom sat at the helm, his body's own version of auto-pilot engaged, as he instinctively kept Voyager on course, his active mind light years away from the task of flying.

Chakotay wasn't sitting behind him. He was still in sickbay, unconscious. 

Tom had checked up on him before his shift, and the Doc had filled him in on the patient's status. The Commander had woken briefly, but the EMH had given him a sedative almost straight away. Chakotay didn't like taking too many painkillers, so the Doc thought keeping him asleep would be the best way of dealing with that. It would keep drug use to a minimum until the residual pain from the burns was bearable.

Chakotay wouldn't be on the bridge for another two or three days.

Tom sighed. 

He'd thought all the Valentine's nonsense had been bad enough, but this... this disruption to his equilibrium that Chakotay's absence caused him... this was worse. Much, much worse.

It had even detracted from his desire to find out who the gift was from. He just didn't care right now.

Perhaps in a couple of days he'd have another attempt at finding out.... 

Perhaps.

He absently lifted one hand and felt for the ring hanging from its chain beneath his uniform top. 

It still was a beautiful gift, though.

 

xxxxx

 

Harry was worried. 

For two days now, Tom had brushed off his every invitation, whether it was to meet in the mess hall or go to the holodeck. The only time they'd seen each other was on duty, and then Tom had hardly spoken. And, at the end of each shift, he'd managed to bolt into the lift and be gone before Harry could catch him. 

He hadn't answered all of Harry's comms, either. 

Something was up, besides Tom's aversion to Valentine's Day, and Harry was concerned. If only he could get Tom to talk for more than thirty seconds at a time....

Maybe B'Elanna could help. She could be very persuasive.... Tom couldn't fob her off as easily. 

Harry hit his comm badge. “Kim to Torres.”

“Torres here.”

“Hi, B'Elanna, I was just wondering if you could do me a favour.”

“Sure, Harry. If I can.”

“I still haven't managed to catch up with Tom. He's being really evasive, and....”

“You want to know if I'll go and see him?”

“Yeah. Would you? I'm kinda worried about him. He was in such a good mood a few days ago, but since then... Well, you know what he's been like.”

“Yeah. An asshole.”

“I guess. But something's up with him, B'Elanna; I know it. He was having nightmares last week, then all of a sudden he was happy for a day, and now he's turned into a hermit outside of shifts. He won't go anywhere, not even the mess hall. I know he's been worked up with all that 'no one loves me' crap but I think there's something else. Trouble is, I can't get more than a dozen words out of him.”

“And you think I'll have better luck?”

“Yeah, I do. ”

“Okay. I'll see what I can do. I'm with Chakotay at the moment, but I'll drop round and see him afterwards. I'll call you later. Torres out.”

 

xxxxx

 

“Tom? Open this door. Now!” B'Elanna rang the chime for the tenth time and pounded on the door with her fist. “I'm not going, Tom. I'll stay here all night if I have to. You know I will. And this little scene's gonna spread all over the ship. Is that what you want?”

The door finally slid open.

“About time,” B'Elanna said as she entered Tom's cabin and marched across to the couch. “Now, sit.” She pointed to the chair opposite her. “And talk. What the hell's wrong with you? Harry's going crazy with worry.”

Tom ignored the chair and stood near the table, instead. “Why? He knows I'm all right; he's seen me on duty. Why all the fuss?”

“It's not Harry that's been creating the fuss, Tom. You've done that all on your own. You weren't content with just _you_ being a basket case, you're turning him into one, too! Now, I want to know why.”

“Why what?”

B'Elanna growled. “Don't be so fucking obtuse, Tom! Just sit!” She waited until he reluctantly complied, then sat forward and glared at him. “Now, tell me what's going on with you.”

“Nothing.” Tom leaned back in the chair and stared vacantly at the ceiling. “I've just been tired, that's all.”

“That's bullshit, Tom, and we both know it!” She took a deep breath and made an effort to rein in her anger. “Just talk to me. Something's bothering you and I'm not leaving here until you tell me what it is. Is it the nightmares?”

“What nightmares?”

“Ah, I see. You told Harry a bunch of lies, didn't you? One of your evasive manoeuvres, I suppose.”

Tom sighed, heavily. “Look, B'Elanna, there's nothing wrong with me, okay? I really have been tired. Exhausted. And I just wasn't in the mood for company.”

“So why not just say that, then? Not that I believe that's all that's wrong with you....”

Tom rubbed his face with his hands before looking at her. He knew she meant what she'd said – she wouldn't leave until he talked. Fuck. Sighing, he relented. “It all got a bit much,” he confessed. “Fucking Valentine's Day everywhere I turned. People were constantly badgering me for gift suggestions. I couldn't relax anywhere I went. Then... Chakotay got hurt. The bridge always goes to hell when he's not there and... I don't like it, okay? It upsets me. Throws me off balance.”

“You've been missing Chakotay?”

“I suppose. Yes. It's just... he's always so calm, y'know?”

B'Elanna snorted. “Always calm? You should've seen him earlier. He wasn't calm then.”

“What?” 

“I just came from his quarters. He was like a bear with a sore head. He apparently gave the Doc hell before he left sickbay.”

“He did? Why?” Tom sat forward and gave B'Elanna his full attention. “Chakotay is all right, isn't he?”

“He's fit for duty and he'll be back tomorrow. He's just not very happy. He lost something very special to him and he's not taking it well.”

“What did he lose?”

“Something personal. He didn't say what, exactly, just that the Doc had recycled it.”

“Recycled it? Why the hell would the Doc do that?”

B'Elanna shrugged. “I don't think he meant to. Whatever it was, it was tucked into a pocket in Chakotay's burnt uniform. When that was recycled, his personal item went with it.”

The colour rapidly drained from Tom's face. The pouch! He'd completely forgotten about the pouch! 

Fuck! 

And now, Chakotay was in a bad mood. A very bad mood, by the sound of it.

He knew he had to give the pouch back. He was _always_ going to give it back; there was no question of that. But would Chakotay think he'd been playing games with him and rip his head off - or worse? After all, _he'd_ been the one doing the recycling. The Doc was _bound_ to have told Chakotay that. Chakotay might be thinking that Tom had disposed of his belongings on purpose.... 

Oh, _hell!_

Maybe he should return it somewhere public. Less chance of bloodshed that way.

“Do you know if Chakotay's going to the party tomorrow night?”

“What?” B'Elanna frowned, puzzled at the abrupt change of subject. “Why are you asking?”

Tom tried to give a nonchalant shrug. “I was just wondering, that's all. Maybe the party will take his mind of things. Cheer him up.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“So, is he going?”

B'Elanna nodded. “Yes, Tom, he is. Now, the question is, are you? Or are you still going to act like an asshole and upset Harry again?”

“I won't upset Harry again, I promise. And, yes, I'll be at the party. At least for a while, anyway.”

“Good.” B'Elanna stood up and straightened her uniform, then headed for the door. “I'm glad that's sorted. I've got things to do now, but you make sure you see Harry and apologise.”

Tom nodded and gave her a quick hug before she left. “I will. Thanks, B'Elanna.”

 

xxxxx

 

By the time he'd been to see Harry to apologise and reassure him he was okay, it was getting pretty late. But at least he'd cleared the air. That was one less thing to do, and one less thing to worry about.

All he had to do now was locate Chakotay's pouch.

“Well, that's easy. It's in my jeans,” Tom muttered as he went into his bedroom. 

He checked his closet, then visually scanned the room and frowned. There was no sign of his jeans. “Where the hell did I put them?”

In the living area, he took the cushions off the couch, pulled it out and looked behind and beneath it. No jeans.

No sign of them in the bathroom, either..

“They've got to be here somewhere....”

Getting worried, he tried to think back to when he'd last worn them. Perhaps if he could remember taking them off, he'd remember where he'd put them.

“Okay... I came back here from sickbay....” He screwed his face up, trying to recollect what he'd done after that. “I'm pretty sure I went straight to the bedroom.”

He went to the room in question and sat on the bed.

“I slept in them!” he suddenly remembered. “So, where did I put them the next morning?”

He checked the closet again. Still no jeans.

Maybe they'd accidentally got kicked under the bed. He bent down to take a look.

“Thank fuck for that!” 

He dragged the crumpled jeans out and quickly searched the pockets, finding the scorched pouch within moments. 

He frowned as he carefully turned it around in his hand. “Looks a bit fragile. I'd better put it somewhere safe until tomorrow.”

Oh, fuck. He _really_ hoped he'd survive tomorrow....

 

xxxxx

 

After a fitful night's sleep, Tom made his way to the bathroom for the shower it'd been too late for the previous evening. As he stripped, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, and the chain that hung around his neck.

He hadn't really thought much about it over the last few days, but taking it off now he re-examined the ring suspended from it.

Again, he thought it was beautiful.

But who had given it to him? How had it got into his jacket pocket?

“Obviously, someone put it there without me noticing,” he mused

He finished removing his clothes as he thought about that fact.

Well, it _had_ been packed in Sandrine's that night. It wouldn't really have been difficult for someone to slip it in unseen.

But who was that someone?

“Do I _actually_ want to know?”

His own question caught him by surprise, and he stepped into the shower, puzzling over why he'd thought it.

Surely, he should want to know who'd professed their long-held love for him, shouldn't he? After all, he'd gained a few insights into this person from their actions, and he'd decided whoever it was had some pretty good attributes.

His first impressions had been that the gift giver was both considerate and altruistic. 

But he could add generous to that, too. The ring obviously wasn't cheap.

And caring? Yes. The note had impressed upon him that he was loved. So, loving could join the list, as well, then.

The person was, most definitely, also a romantic. 

So, with traits like these, why shouldn't he now want to find out who it was? Especially as he'd wanted to earlier....

As he finished his shower and started to dry himself, he suddenly understood why.

This person was a serious rival for the one he'd fixed on so long ago – a guy who had, unfortunately, never shown any interest in him, and who, because of that, he'd deliberately kept in the dark about how he felt.

Even so, he acknowledged, he wasn't ready – might _never_ be ready – to put his love aside, just because it wasn't reciprocated, and seek out someone else instead. To do so would, in some way, feel like betrayal. 

He just couldn't do it. 

“Anyway,” he muttered, as he quickly dressed, “Chakotay's probably gonna kill me tonight, so it's all moot, really.”

With a shake of his head, and a dejected sigh, he hastily replaced the chain around his neck, put on his shoes and left for the mess hall.

 

xxxxx

 

“Do you mind if I join you? My usual seat seems to be taken this morning.”

B'Elanna looked up from her plate and smiled. “Of course not. Take a seat.”

“Thanks.”

Harry, his mouth currently full, nodded his greeting.

“It's pretty busy in here,” Chakotay observed, placing his breakfast on the table and sitting next to B'Elanna. “Is the food really that good today?”

Harry grinned at him. “No, Commander. Everyone's just out of rations.”

“Valentine's Day,” B'Elanna explained. “Most of them have used what they had on presents.”

“Ah, yes. Presents. Something special for that special someone. Is the replicator system holding up under the strain?”

B'Elanna nodded. “Yes, thankfully. A lot of the crew started their 'shopping' early. Not too many demands all at once, so it's coping well.”

“That's good.”

“And how are you today, Chakotay?” B'Elanna asked, picking up her coffee. “Are you coping?”

“Coping?” Chakotay gave a puzzled frown, before suddenly realising she was referencing their previous night's conversation about his recycled pouch. “Ah, that. Well, I don't suppose I have any option but to cope, do I? It's gone and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not happy – the item was irreplaceable – but I'll just have to get over it.”

“Time,” B'Elanna suggested, “that's said to make things better.”

“So I've heard,” Chakotay replied, his gaze drifting to the door as Tom Paris entered and headed for the food counter. “I can't say it's worked much for me. In fact,” he stated softly, “time can make some things feel a whole lot worse.”

He lapsed into silence as B'Elanna raised her hand to catch Tom's attention. 

“Over here, Tom,” she called.

Hearing his name, Tom looked up from the meal he'd just put on his tray, and groaned. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, realising he had no option but to comply. “I think I've just lost my appetite.”

Forcing a smile on his face, Tom walked across to the table and sat down next to Harry, opposite Chakotay. “Morning.”

“Good to see you out and about, Tom,” Harry said with a smile, after the other two had acknowledged Tom's greeting. “The hermit life really didn't suit you, you know.”

“It was a few days of alone time, Harry,” Tom answered with a hint of annoyance. “That was all.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” Harry apologised. “But I am glad it's over in time for tonight. The party wouldn't be the same without you there.”

“Exactly,” B'Elanna agreed. “Things are never dull when Tom's around. Wouldn't you say so, Chakotay?”

“Absolutely. Our Mr. Paris often adds a welcome bit of _punch_ to proceedings.”

“Yeah, well,” Tom said nervously, wondering if Chakotay's words were actually a veiled threat, “I do what I can. I'm glad it's appreciated.”

“It is, Tom,” Chakotay responded with a smile, his gaze flicking to the neck of Tom's uniform. “In fact, very much so. You usually manage to do something to make a party memorable.”

“Well,” Tom said quietly, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the spot the other man had been looking at, and finding a loop of chain hanging out, “as long as it's memorable for the right reasons....” He quickly tucked the chain in and then gave his meal his full and undivided attention.

“Are you going tonight, Commander?” Harry asked, between bites of his breakfast.

Chakotay nodded. “I'm looking forward to it. I'm not usually keen on parties, but a bit of fun might be good after the last few days.”

“I think you're right,” B'Elanna joined in. “I think you'll feel much better for it.”

“I hope so,” Chakotay replied, picking up the last piece of fruit from his plate. “But I'll feel even better once the Doctor's implemented the new orders I'm going to give him about recycler usage. After all, no one likes having their possessions disposed of while they're ill - least of all, me.”

“He recycled something of yours?” Harry asked, sounding incredulous.

Tom gulped down his coffee and stood, before Chakotay could answer. “I've got to go,” he said quickly. “Neelix wanted a word with me before I go on shift. I'll see you all later.”

Ignoring the puzzled looks from B'Elanna and Harry, Tom grabbed up his half-eaten meal and empty mug and made a very speedy getaway.

 

xxxxx

 

The morning shift was uneventful, if not a little boring, and Tom was pleased when lunch time finally arrived. He'd felt more relaxed with Chakotay back in his rightful place, but he was still dreading what might happen between them later. 

Handing over the helm to his replacement, he entered the lift with Harry and called for his deck.

“You're not going to the mess hall?” Harry asked, hoping that Tom wasn't going to start hiding out again.

Tom shook his head. “No,” he responded, “I've got a few things to do for Neelix, so I'm eating in my quarters.”

“You must be about the only person on the ship who's got any rations left,” Harry stated. “But what's Neelix got you doing?”

“Oh, he just wants me to make a few adjustments to the Sandrine's program, for tonight - Holographic decorations and stuff - so I thought I'd mix work with lunch.” 

“Well, I guess that makes sense; you won't have time later,” Harry replied, as the lift stopped at Tom's deck. “I'll see you back on the bridge, then.”

“Yeah. See ya, Harry.”

Exiting the lift, Tom strolled down the corridor to his quarters and went inside.

Ordering a couple of sandwiches and a coffee from the replicator, he set to work on Neelix's requests, half wishing he'd done it a week ago, when the Talaxian had first asked.

“Okay,” he mumbled, accessing the program on his terminal. “Hearts and roses.... And temporarily delete the pool table.” 

He worked quickly, eating as he did so. “Hmm, the dance floor....”

After thirty minutes, the modifications were done. He was about to log off when he remembered an addition to the program that he hadn't used in a long time, one that was known only to him.

“Wouldn't hurt to run it tonight,” he muttered, keying in the commands. “A bolt-hole might just prove useful....”

He really hoped Chakotay wouldn't get mad at him about the pouch and his explanation for having it, but if things _did_ get physical... well, a contingency plan was always a good thing to have.

Smiling, he finished his task and shut down the terminal.

There was just enough time for one more cup of coffee before he had to be back on the bridge.

 

xxxxx

 

After his shift ended, Tom decided to get back to his quarters quickly, so that he could pick out what he was going to wear and, hopefully, have some time to relax before the party started.

He'd almost made it back to his cabin when Megan caught up with him. He stopped, sighed, then waited for her to speak.

“Hi, Tom. You've not been around much, lately,” Megan said, smiling and resting a hand on his forearm. “Jenny thinks you've been avoiding us.”

“She does?”

“Yeah.”

“Did she want me for something, then?”

Megan nodded. “She was wondering if you had a date for tonight.”

“And if I haven't, she wants me to go with her,” Tom reasoned. “Look, I'm sorry, Megan, but I can't. I've got some stuff to sort out with someone tonight and....” He shrugged, not wanting to continue. 

“Oh, well, if you're already taken, don't worry about it. I'm sure Jenny can find someone else to go with.”

“Well....” He was about to say he wasn't taken, but that would just prolong the conversation - and might lead to him being talked into going to the party with Megan's sister - so he decided to let her think she was right. “Tell her I'm sorry, okay?”

“Sure, Tom,” Megan answered, quickly kissing his cheek. “See you later.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

Megan walked off, and Tom hurried to his quarters making it there without further interruption.

As the door slid shut behind him, he went straight to the replicator and ordered a simple meal of soup and bread. Taking it to the table, he sat and ate, his mind running over what clothes were in his closet. By the time he was finished, he'd mentally selected his outfit.

After quickly clearing the table, he went to the bedroom to find what he'd decided to wear, laying out the black trousers and dark blue, long-sleeved shirt on his bed. He would dress later, after he'd showered, and would carefully put Chakotay's singed and fragile pouch in the deepest pocket of his trousers for safekeeping.

First, though, he needed something to help him relax for a while.

Deciding to watch a short vid, he crossed to the couch and sat down.

 

xxxxx

 

There was already a fair sized crowd when Harry and B'Elanna arrived at Sandrine's. There were still some tables free, though, so B'Elanna claimed one at the edge of the dance floor, while Harry went to the bar to order drinks. Tom was going to be joining them, so she snagged a chair for him as well and sat back, her gaze taking in the modifications he'd made to the program on Neelix's behalf.

One of the most noticeable differences was the lack of the pool table. There was now a large dance floor instead, which a few couples were already taking advantage of, happily swaying away to music that flowed from speakers concealed around the room.

Bunches of red and silver heart-shaped balloons hung from the ceiling, and rose garlands were draped over the top of the bar and across the walls, with stands of red roses here and there around the edge of the room. Each table was covered with a white linen cloth and had a silver vase in the centre containing yet more roses. B'Elanna thought she'd never seen the place look less like Sandrine's, although, it still retained its warm and friendly atmosphere.

B'Elanna looked up as Harry placed their drinks on the table. “I think Neelix really likes roses,” she commented, grinning.

Harry laughed. “It sure seems that way,” he agreed. “He's even baked little cakes with them on. They're on the long table at the far side of the bar, if you fancy one.”

“I think I'll pass for now,” B'Elanna said, shaking her head. 

Harry sat down and picked up his glass of wine, taking a sip. “Any sign of Tom?” he asked.

“Not yet,” B'Elanna replied. “Or, at least, I haven't seen him. The Captain's here, though. And Tuvok's just come in,” she added, nodding towards the door.

Harry followed her gaze and watched as additional people began drifting in and the place started to fill up. It was rapidly getting more and more difficult to see the entrance.

“He might already be here and we've just not spotted him yet,” B'Elanna said, watching Harry, who was trying to watch the door. “Wasn't he going to help Neelix set up or something?”

“I'm not sure. You might be right,” Harry answered. He looked at the dance floor beside them, more couples now using it. “While we're waiting for him to show up, though, do you fancy a dance, before it gets too crowded?”

B'Elanna frowned in thought for a moment, then grinned. “Why not?” she answered, and grabbed Harry's hand.

As they took to the floor, Tom went unnoticed, sitting as he was in a tucked-away dark space at the back of the room. He'd arrived before anyone else had, to initiate the program and make any last minute tweaks to it. 

He'd also made use of the time alone to check that his 'bolt-hole' – should he need it - was functional. He'd arranged three tall stands of roses to conceal it all, and was currently using his vantage point to keep a look out for Chakotay. 

It wasn't too long before his vigil was rewarded, as about ten minutes later Chakotay arrived with Ayala and Gerron. They seated themselves at the one remaining empty table near the side wall, and then talked together a moment before Ayala got up and made his way to the bar.

“I need to talk to him when he's on his own,” Tom mused. “A private conversation in a public place....”

He watched as Ayala returned with a tray of drinks and a pile of snacks and guessed that Chakotay would be staying where he was for a while. Not wanting to sit in the dark all night, Tom decided he'd go and see B'Elanna and Harry. Now he knew where Chakotay was, he'd just nip back every now and again until he caught him on his own.

Checking that no one was looking, Tom sneaked out from behind the roses and headed towards the tables near the dance floor.

xxxxx

 

“Tom, what's the matter with you?” Harry asked, as the obviously distracted man went to leave his seat, yet again. “You've been up and down every five minutes for the last half hour. Where'd you keep going?”

Tom reluctantly sat back down, shrugging. “Just seeing who's about, that's all,” he answered, as nonchalantly as he could.

“You're looking for someone in particular, aren't you?” Harry guessed. “Who is it?”

“Yes, Tom,” B'Elanna joined in, also curious about the blond man's behaviour, “you can hardly stay still. Who's got you so worked up?”

Tom took a deep breath. He was nervous enough already, without being interrogated. “If you must know, there's just someone I need to talk to, all right?” he said, rising again. “I'll be back when I'm done.” 

“Tom...”

“No, Harry. I don't want to discuss it right now. I'll see you later.”

Tom rushed off, leaving Harry and B'Elanna puzzled as they watched him disappear into the crowd.

A couple of minutes later, after wending his way through a horde of happy and garrulous crew members, Tom found himself in sight of the side wall and wondered where the hell Chakotay had gone. Ayala and Gerron were still at the table, but there was no Chakotay.

“Shit! Where is he? I need to get this sorted, I don't want it dragging on all night.”

He idly played with the chain around his neck as he visually scanned the room, finally locating the dark-haired man sitting with the Captain and Seven, at a table in the corner a short way from the bar. He was contemplating what to do next, when Chakotay looked up and smiled at him.

Feeling his face start to redden, Tom clutched the chain tighter and quickly turned away. 

He really needed a drink.

Finding a gap at the bar, he leaned his elbows on the counter and waited to be served.

“Tom?” 

Tom caught his breath as a large, warm hand landed on his shoulder and urged him to turn around.

“I get the feeling you want to talk to me,” Chakotay said, once Tom was facing him. “Am I right?”

Tom hesitated a moment, then swallowed nervously and nodded. “Yeah. I do. But, how...?”

“How did I know?”

“Yeah.”

Chakotay smiled and gave Tom's arm a friendly squeeze. “Tom,” he said, with a hint of humour in his voice, “I think you need a few lessons in covert observation techniques.”

“Shit.” Tom snorted and shook his head. “When did you first notice me?”

“When you appeared from behind the flowers,” Chakotay answered, grinning. “After that, you were hovering on the edge of the crowd every few minutes, pretending not to watch the table I was sitting at. You could have been watching Ayala or Gerron, of course, but when you followed me to the Captain's table, I knew it was me. And something's obviously bothering you, so....”

Tom sighed. “You're right,” he conceded, having to raise his voice to be heard over the loud music that suddenly burst from a nearby speaker. “Do you have time to talk now?”

Chakotay nodded. “Let's grab some drinks and find somewhere quieter. What would you like?”

“Whatever you're having is fine. Thank you.”

It didn't take Chakotay long to get served and he turned back to Tom, a glass of whisky in each hand. He pointed to the table that Ayala and Gerron were just vacating. “Over there?” he queried.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, and they weaved their way through the throng, taking the seats by the wall, away from the speakers.

“So...” Chakotay said, once they were settled, “what's on your mind, Tom?”

Tom was silent for a moment, sipping his drink as he wondered what to say. Chakotay seemed to be in a good mood, so.... “It's about what happened to you in sickbay,” he began quietly. “About the recycler.”

“Oh?” Chakotay frowned, twisting in his seat until he could see Tom's face. “What do you know about that?”

“Well... I don't know what the Doc told you, but I know he didn't recycle the item you lost,” Tom answered, nervously. “It was me who used the recycler that night, not him.”

“You destroyed my property?” Chakotay asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice and not quite managing it. “Why, Tom? How? You weren't even on duty then.”

“No,” Tom agreed, “I wasn't on duty. But I was there, collecting up some odd and ends I'd left behind the previous week, when you were beamed in. I stayed to help. I regenerated some of your injuries.”

“Well, I'm very grateful to you for that,” Chakotay said, sincerely. “But why recycle my personal things? That's not something I'd ever expect from you, Tom.”

“You wouldn't?” Tom asked, surprised. He looked at the expression on Chakotay's face, pleased to see honesty there, albeit tinged with a little not-quite-concealed anger. “Well, I'm glad you wouldn't think I'd do it, Chakotay,” he continued, “because I didn't.”

“What? But you said....”

Tom quickly cut him off. “I said, I used the recycler. And I did. I put your old uniform in it. What I didn't recycle was what was in your pocket.”

Chakotay sat quietly, an array of emotions flitting across his slightly pale face as he gazed at the man beside him. “What did you do with the pouch, Tom?” he asked slowly. “Did you open it?”

Tom wondered why Chakotay seemed so apprehensive. What the hell was in the pouch? About to answer, he stopped himself as Captain Janeway appeared at the side of the table.

“Chakotay, Tom, I hope I'm not interrupting,” she greeted them, then turned her gaze solely on the Commander. “I was hoping I might ask a favour of you,”

“What kind of favour?” Chakotay asked, as the Captain sat down opposite him.

“It's Seven,” Janeway responded. “She's got to get back to a simulation she's running. But before she has to go I thought perhaps you could help her with something.” At Chakotay's questioning look she continued. “As you know, the Doctor has been tutoring her in various dance steps, but she's never yet danced with a flesh and blood man. I thought maybe....”

“You want me to dance with Seven?”

“If you wouldn't mind,” Janeway said, smiling. “I know she would really appreciate it. And besides,” she added, “you _would_ make a very handsome couple, don't you think?”

Chakotay took a deep breath before replying. “I'm sure there are plenty more capable dance partners for Seven here tonight, Kathryn. Ayala, for instance, is surprisingly accomplished in that area.”

“Is that a no, Chakotay?”

“It is,” Chakotay confirmed. “I'm afraid I'm otherwise engaged right now.”

Janeway's face showed a trace of annoyance. “Well, if you have other priorities, I'll have to let Seven know.” She stood and pushed her chair in. “I'm sorry for taking up your time, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of the party.” With a nod of her head, she turned and walked away.

Tom gave Chakotay a quizzical look. “Was that an attempt at matchmaking?” 

Chakotay sighed and nodded. “I'm afraid it was.”

“And you have no interest in Seven?”

“No. I have no interest in Seven. The only thing I am interested in right now is you,” Chakotay said, facing Tom, “and what you did with my pouch.”

“I found it by accident, when I was putting your uniform in the recycler,” Tom explained quietly. “But you were injured and I wanted to get back to you quickly, to help the Doc treat the burns, so I stuffed the pouch in my pocket.” He gave the man beside him an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, Chakotay. I was so caught up in what I was doing that I completely forgot about it. It wasn't until B'Elanna came to see me yesterday that I remembered it, but...”

“Go on,” Chakotay urged, when Tom stayed quiet for a few moments.

Tom's hand went up to clasp the chain around his neck, holding on to it as if he could draw some sort of comfort or strength from it. “B'Elanna told me how upset you were, and I thought... I thought you might be mad at _me_.”

Chakotay stayed silent, so Tom took a deep breath and continued. “I thought maybe the Doc told you that is was _me_ who'd used the recycler. I thought maybe you'd think I'd got rid of your pouch on purpose. I didn't, though, Chakotay,” he said, catching the other man's dark eyes. “And I also haven't looked inside it. I know how much your privacy means to you; I'd never intentionally intrude on it.”

Chakotay breathed a deep sigh of relief and smiled warmly at Tom. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, taking Tom's free hand and gently squeezing it, much to Tom's surprise. “That means a lot to me. A hell of a lot.”

Pulling his hand away from Chakotay's, Tom reached into his trouser pocket. “I have your pouch here,” he said, grabbing hold of the item and starting to pull it out. “It's a bit damaged from the blast but...”

As the pouch was removed from Tom's pocket, one part of the fragile material gave way and the single item inside clattered to the table for an instant, before falling to the floor. Acting instinctively, Tom moved swiftly to look for it, dropping the tattered pouch on the table as he fell to his knees. Noticing something gold beneath one of the empty chairs, he stretched and picked it up.

“Oh, fuck!” he cursed almost inaudibly, staring at the ring in his hand. “It's the same as mine!”

As he slowly backed out from under the table, Tom's mind was whirring madly, trying to make sense of the situation. It was obvious to him that whoever had given _him_ a ring had also given one to Chakotay. And Chakotay was very obviously attached to the gift. 

Hell! 

Chakotay probably didn't know that someone was just dishing these things out like candy. He'd be really hurt if he found out.

But he'd be even more hurt if he found out by accident, Tom thought. 

He'd have to tell him. He couldn't let Chakotay stay caught up in a lie.

Standing up, he held the ring out in the palm of his hand. “I'm sorry, Chakotay. I really didn't know the pouch was going to break, but...” he took a long steadying breath as the other man's fingers grasped the offered item, “I think we need to talk about that ring.”

Chakotay's face had paled, and his breathing was shallow. After a moment of silence, he nodded. “Okay,” he agreed quietly. “But not here, Tom. Not at this table.”

Tom gestured to the back of the room, where the three stands of roses were. “How about my not-so-covert hiding place?” he suggested. “There's a bench and table back there.”

“All right.”

Tom led the way, scanning the room as he walked. Halfway to their destination, he saw Harry waving at him through a gap in the crowd.

“Shit!” Picking up his pace, he turned his head to the man following him. “We need to get in there _now_ ,” he said urgently. “Or Harry's gonna collar me and drag me away.”

Chakotay seemed surprised. “He doesn't know about your hideout?” 

Tom looked around as they reached the rose stands. Not seeing any eyes on him, he slipped behind them, Chakotay swiftly following. “No one else knows about this place, except you,” he finally answered, sliding behind the table and onto the bench. He positioned himself at an angle in the corner, as Chakotay sat next to him.

“Do you always put secret places in your programs, Tom?”

“Not often,” Tom replied, dropping his voice. “But we're not here to discuss my programs.”

“No, I guess not,” Chakotay said quietly. 

Tom took a moment to appraise the older man, noting his subdued voice and demeanour. He spoke softly to him. “I seem to be apologising a lot to you tonight,” he started, momentarily dropping his eyes to his lap, “and I need to do it again, now.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Tom said, nodding. “I have to apologise for what I'm about to say.”

Chakotay sighed heavily. “Tom, you don't have to apol....”

“No,” Tom cut him off. “I do. I don't want to have to do this, Chakotay, but you've got to know the truth, okay? I know it's going to hurt you, and that's what I want to apologise for. I don't like being the bearer of bad news, especially to you.”

Chakotay ran a shaky hand across his face and shook his head. “Dreams...” he murmured, looking down. “They never translate well into reality.”

Tom was puzzled by the other man's words, but picked up on them anyway. “Well, I can guess what dreams you'd attached to that ring, Chakotay. But I can tell you this for certain: it's all lies. The ring, the note... it's _all_ lies.”

”Not on my part,” Chakotay responded softly. “It means more to me than you can possibly imagine, Tom. And...” he paused, quickly rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand, “it's going to be very hard to give up on. Very hard.”

“I know,” Tom agreed. He pulled the chain out from his shirt and looked sadly down at the ring suspended there. “Your ring's twin....” he murmured. “When I first got this, I was... well, stunned, I guess. And with the beautiful note professing love for me... it felt really good, y'know? I've always wanted to be loved. _Really_ loved. Especially by someone with attributes like the giver seemed to possess.”

“But it wasn't enough?”

“No, it wasn't that. It's just... my heart already belongs to someone else. And I don't think it's right for _anyone_ to offer their whole heart to two people at the same time. It would never work. It's not possible. Not for me. And... I dislike being played, as much as I'm sure you do.”

Chakotay sighed, swallowing hard. “I understand, Tom. It should never have gone beyond the dream. I'm so sorry. Truly, I am.”

Tom shuffled closer to Chakotay and placed a hand on his shoulder, surprised to find a slight tremor beneath his fingers. “You don't have to be sorry, Chakotay. It's not your fault, after all.”

“Well, whose fault is it, then, if not mine?” Chakotay asked, his eyes growing moist. “I'm the one who started this whole thing. Of course it's my fault. I've always known you weren't interested. But I let myself get carried away.”

Tom sat back, totally bemused. He had no idea what Chakotay was talking about. “I don't understand,” he confessed, frowning. “What exactly _did_ you start?”

“You're going to make me spell it out?” Chakotay asked in a whisper. “You already know.”

“I know you're upset, Chakotay, but please... just... just start at the beginning, okay?” Tom pleaded. “Because, at the moment, it's like we're talking about two different things. I need to understand what you're saying. Please.”

Chakotay closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall behind him, taking several deep calming breaths before speaking.

“This... situation.... It started a couple of weeks ago, here, in Sandrine's. I was sitting in the shadows and I don't think either you or Harry saw me there.” Chakotay paused for a moment, glancing at Tom. “You were stating that... that no one loved you or would _ever_ love you. And I couldn't stand the fact that you felt that way, Tom. You seemed so unhappy....”

“I was,” Tom agreed quietly. “All the Valentine's Day talk was driving me crazy. So many people going on and on about love... and all I really felt was... sad. Lonely. It hurt.”

“I know,” Chakotay said, just as quietly. “But... I don't understand, now, why the one... your heart belongs to... wasn't there for you.”

Tom sighed unhappily, then looked directly into the other man's dark eyes. “Ever heard of unrequited love, Chakotay? _That's_ why the person wasn't there.”

“I'm so sorry, Tom,” Chakotay responded sympathetically. “I know exactly how upsetting that is. How much it hurts.”

“Yeah.” Tom nodded and briefly looked away. “But, about what you were saying before... You watched me? Here?”

“I did,” Chakotay confirmed quietly. “And other places, too, when our paths crossed. You were so convinced that no one loved you, that I.... I wanted you to know you were wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yes.” Chakotay reached over and tentatively placed his hand on Tom's arm. “You were stressed and I could see you were getting worse, so I thought, if I told you... told you that you were wrong to believe that no one loved you... I thought you'd feel better.”

“But....” Tom faltered, his brain struggling to make sense of Chakotay's words. “You never said anything to me,” he finally stated. 

“I didn't think speaking to you would help,” Chakotay said quietly, pulling his hand back. “You'd have probably thought I was teasing you. So I... I....” He stopped, desperately trying to rein in his heightening emotions before carrying on. “I thought... I wanted.... Oh, _Hell_!”

“Chakotay?” Tom watched in amazement as the older man completely lost his composure. His eyes glistened brightly with forming tears, making Tom's eyes fill in sympathy. Reaching out, he gently placed his hands on Chakotay's shoulders and moved closer. “Chakotay?” 

Chakotay lowered his head, his words just a whisper. “I wanted to help you, Tom,” he said, swiping at his eyes with his sleeve. “I wanted to help me, too. I... I just wanted one part of the dream.... Just one part.”

“Which part was that?” Tom asked gently.

Chakotay wiped his eyes again and sighed as he looked up. “The part where I tell you I love you, Tom,” he said softly, “and give you a ring.”

The colour drained from Tom's face as he suddenly realised he'd got the whole situation completely wrong. It was _Chakotay_ who'd given him the ring and the scroll; there wasn't anyone else involved at all! 

Tears now slowly tracking down his face, Tom clutched Chakotay's shoulders harder as the older man continued talking.

“I knew I couldn't do it the way I really wanted to, because you're not interested in me, but doing it anonymously was better than not at all. I'm just sorry I've upset you so much. I never meant to, Tom, and it hurts me that I did.” Chakotay lifted his fingers to Tom's face and gently brushed at his wet cheeks. “I hope you'll be able to forgive me one day.”

“Forgive you?” Tom shook his head in disbelief. “Why the hell would I do that?” Chakotay tried to pull away in reaction to what he'd said, but Tom just tightened his grip. “I can't forgive you,” he continued, “because there's _nothing_ to forgive. _Nothing_.”

“But, I upset you....”

“No. You didn't,” Tom insisted. “I did _that_ all by myself. I had it _all_ wrong. Completely fucking wrong!”

“What?” Chakotay looked perplexed. “What did you get wrong? You were the one who wanted to talk to me about the ring, after all.”

“Yes,” Tom agreed, “I was. But...” he took a deep breath, “I didn't know the ring was from _you_. I thought we'd both received a gift from the same person – some _unknown someone_ professing love to _both_ of us at the _same_ time - and I didn't want you finding out by accident because I thought you'd be hurt.”

They stared at each other in silence for a while, neither knowing what to say. 

It was Tom who eventually broke the impasse. 

“So, you really meant what you wrote?” he asked quietly.

Chakotay nodded. “Every word, Tom,” he admitted. “You just weren't meant to know it came from me.”

“Because you thought I wasn't interested.”

“Yes.”

“And if I told you you're wrong?”

“Wrong?”

“Yes, Chakotay. Wrong,” Tom said, a smile creeping across his face. “You can be wrong sometimes, y'know. And this time, you're _very_ wrong. Very, _very_ wrong.”

“You mean...?”

“Yes, Chakotay,” Tom said, smiling widely now. “I'm _more_ than interested. _Much_ more.”

Chakotay was stunned for a few moments, and then, as he realised what Tom was actually saying and offering, he grinned. “So....” he began, hopefully, “Is this the part where we...?”

“Kiss? I'd say so. Wouldn't you?”

“I would. I most _definitely_ would.”

It was just a brief touch of lips at first, hesitant, tentative and gentle, then Tom felt hands moving through the hair at the nape of his neck, caressing him as he was pulled closer. His own hands moved from Chakotay's shoulders, slipping down to slowly stroke the other man's back, over and over, as the kiss gradually intensified, all the previous tension on both their parts dissipating almost instantaneously.

Music and laughter drifted in from the room beyond the roses, going unnoticed by the men sitting in the darkened alcove, their full attention only on each other.

Moving, Tom placed his hands either side of Chakotay's face, slipping along the bench to straddle his thighs, deepening the kiss as the heat from their bodies seeped through their clothing at each point they met. They pressed closer, Chakotay's hands gripping Tom's hips as they kissed on, their no longer concealed desire for each other rising with each passing minute.

“Chakotay...” Tom breathed, as one kiss ended and before another began. “Oh, God....”

It was intense now, too intense, the kisses rapidly turning more passionate as years of longing gave way to the new and most welcome reality; so, slowly, reluctantly, Tom forced himself to pull away.

“Got to stop,” he whispered. “Got to stop before....” He drew a ragged breath as he gazed into Chakotay's dark eyes, filled with heat and want. “Can't go further, not here.”

“No. Not here,” Chakotay agreed, his voice soft and low. He leaned in to nuzzle at Tom's neck, gently kissing his way to the other man's ear. “Later,” he promised. “We'll finish this later.”

“Absolutely.” Tom smiled, touching his lips to Chakotay's once more. “You can be sure of it.” 

Chakotay rested his hands on Tom's thighs as the younger man leaned his back against the edge of the table, a contented smile on his face as they both sought to calm themselves. “I was right about you, you know,” Chakotay said, his thumbs gently, unconsciously, caressing Tom's legs. “You _do_ always find a way to make a party memorable.”

Tom gave a delighted laugh. “Well, it's definitely memorable for me,” he stated, running his hands down Chakotay's arms. “Confusing at first, emotional, but very, very memorable.”

“It's a dream come true for me.”

“For me, too.”

They smiled fondly at each other, finally becoming aware of the sounds from the bar. 

“Shall we go back to the party?” Chakotay asked.

Tom nodded. “I think we ought to, don't you?” 

“I do,” Chakotay agreed. “But I think I need to change my shirt first. The sleeves are wet.”

“That's what you get for drying your eyes on them,” Tom said with a grin. He moved off Chakotay's lap and stood at the end of the table, holding out a hand and pulling the other man to his feet when he took it. “You go get changed, then,” he instructed, “and I'll go and catch up with Harry and B'Elanna, over by the dance floor. Meet me at their table?” he queried, a hint of nervousness colouring his voice.

“You don't mind us being public? Especially so soon?”

“No. I don't mind at all,” Tom said with certainty. “I want to show you off, to everyone. I want them all to see how lucky I am. And I want to have fun. I just... wasn't sure if....”

Chakotay smiled and gave Tom a gentle kiss. “I'm fine with it,” he assured him. “ _More_ than fine. I want people to see how lucky _I_ am, too, Tom. I want them _all_ to know that we're together.”

“Thank you,” Tom whispered. “That means so much.”

“I'll see you in a few minutes then?”

“Yeah.”

After one more quick kiss, they crept out of the alcove, Chakotay heading for his quarters, while Tom made his way through the crowd to his friends' table, tidying his hair with his fingers as he went.

“Tom,” Harry greeted him, as Tom pulled out a chair and sat down. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I told you, Harry. There was someone I had to talk to,” Tom answered, stretching his legs out under the table. “But it's done now, so I'm back.”

“You're not going to be disappearing again every five minutes?”

“Nope.”

“I suppose it's a waste of time asking who were you speaking to,” B'Elanna said, studying Tom's face and noting how he actually seemed to be happy – something that hadn't often been apparent over the last two weeks. 

“Yep.”

“Well, _you're_ talkative,” Harry grumbled. He picked up his empty glass then and stood. “I'm going to the bar, if anyone wants anything. B'Elanna?”

“Another glass of wine would be good, Harry. Thanks.”

“Tom?”

Tom shook his head. “I'll come with you, Harry. I'll get this round.”

Harry patted Tom on the back. “Come on then, before you change your mind.”

Tom grinned and stood up, grabbing B'Elanna's empty glass. “Lead on, then, Harry. I'm in need of a drink.”

B'Elanna watched them until they'd reached the queue at the bar, then let her gaze drift around the rest of the room, noting all the smiling faces and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. It was about ten minutes later when she noticed the Captain approaching, wine glass in hand.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Janeway asked, placing her glass on the table. 

B'Elanna shook her head. “Have a seat, Captain. Harry and Tom will be back once they've got their drinks.”

Janeway nodded, then looked around until she found a solitary unclaimed chair, which she grabbed and brought to the table. Sitting, she sipped her wine. “The evening seems to be going well,” she commented.

“It does,” B'Elanna agreed. “Everyone looks pretty happy.”

“Yes, they do. And the dance floor's getting lots of use.”

“It is,” B'Elanna said with a nod. “Not sure I'm keen on all the roses everywhere, but other people seem to think they're okay.”

“Well,” Janeway said, grinning, “ Neelix thought they'd make Sandrine's look romantic. And, I suppose, to some degree, they do.”

B'Elanna was about to reply, when Chakotay appeared out of the crowd and found his way to the table, taking a seat next to the Captain.

“Chakotay. It's good to see you,” B'Elanna greeted him, “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks,” Chakotay responded, after a quick greeting to Janeway. “How about you? Been having fun with Harry?”

“It's been pleasant,” she answered non-committally. “But, what have you been up to?”

Chakotay grinned. “This and that.”

Harry and Tom arrived back then, glasses in hand. Harry placed his and B'Elanna's drinks on the table, sat down in the only empty chair, then grinned up at Tom. “Looks like you'll be standing,” he said smugly.

Tom put down the two glasses of whisky he'd been carrying and turned to Chakotay. “You've got my chair, Chakotay,” he stated, hands on hips. “Get up.”

“No.”

“I _said_ ,” Tom reiterated, “get _up_.”

“And I said,” Chakotay began, trying hard to suppress a grin, “no.” 

With three worried faces looking on, Tom took hold of Chakotay's shoulders. “Guess we'll just have to share, then,” he said, carefully positioning himself across Chakotay's lap. “Hope you don't mind.”

“Tom,” the Captain said, warningly.

Tom ignored her and made himself more comfortable, draping an arm around Chakotay's shoulders. “Nice,” he said, grinning. “You make a good cushion, Chakotay. I think I'll stay here.”

“You do that, Tom,” Chakotay responded with a smile, “but before you get too settled, can you pass me my drink?”

B'Elanna and Harry exchanged bewildered looks as Tom grabbed a glass of whisky off the table and gave it to Chakotay. “There you go,” he said, as Chakotay's other arm snaked around his waist and held him tight. “Enjoy.”

“I'll certainly do that,” Chakotay responded, grinning.

“Guys?” B'Elanna questioned, looking from Tom to Chakotay. “What the hell's going on here?”

“That's a very good question, B'Elanna,” Janeway agreed. “Gentlemen?”

“I don't think we've been clear enough, Chakotay,” Tom remarked, bringing his hand up to the other man's cheek. “Perhaps we should be clearer.”

“Perhaps we should,” Chakotay agreed amiably, then caught Tom's lips with his and gave him a deep, lingering whisky-tinged kiss.

“If you want it any clearer,” Tom said shakily, when they finally parted, “tickets for tonight's main event will be available at the bar.”

Minutes passed before anyone else spoke.

“Um....” Harry ventured.

Chakotay laughed loudly, making the whisky slosh around in his glass. “I think we've broken them, Tom. Fancy a dance while they recover?”

“Sure.” Tom stood and took Chakotay's drink from him, returning it to the table. Grasping Chakotay's hand, he gestured towards the dance floor. “Lead on.”

Leaving their silent, disbelieving crew mates behind them, Chakotay steered Tom between the many dancing couples until they were in a shadowed area near the back. Tom draped his arms around Chakotay's neck as he was pulled close.

“I'm glad you've got a good sense of humour,” Tom remarked, touching his forehead to Chakotay's. “You're probably gonna need it often, now you're with me.”

“The only thing I _need_ , Tom,” Chakotay said softly, “is you.”

“Good at sweet talking as well, I see,” Tom responded, smiling. “What else are you good at?”

Chakotay ran his hands possessively down Tom's back, grasping his cloth-covered ass and bringing him in tight against his own body. “I'm sure you'll find out,” he whispered into Tom's ear. He let his lips travel downwards, lightly nipping Tom's neck as he aligned their groins and subtly rubbed against him. “Later,” he added softly, before their lips found each other once more.

Their explorations went unnoticed by the couples similarly engaged around them, as they, themselves, were oblivious to everyone else. But as the slow music finally changed to something livelier, they still clung together, dancing to their own tune as the floor started to empty.

They'd managed, somehow, to edge their way back until they were between two stands of roses. Unable to go further, Tom found himself pressed against the wall, Chakotay's body touching his from chest to knee, his eyes closed, his neck alternately being bitten and kissed. 

Threading his fingers through soft, dark hair, Tom grasped Chakotay's head and urged him up, their mouths coming together for a series of long, slow, sensual kisses that made them both breathless.

“I hope... later... won't be... too much later,” Tom managed to gasp out, as Chakotay's hands moved to his chest. But it was only when Chakotay started undoing his shirt buttons at warp speed that Tom realised 'later' was going to be now if he allowed Chakotay to carry on. And as tempting as it was to let him.... 

“Chakotay. _Chakotay_. Chak... _oh_... tay.... _Tay... stop_.” He grasped Chakotay's hands tightly, desperately trying to still them as he tried to get his breathing under control. “I don't think,” he breathed out, as Chakotay stared at him with glazed eyes, “that the crew... wants to see us... dancing horizontally... right now.”

Chakotay continued to stare, until realisation suddenly hit him. “Shit, Tom.” He fumbled at the buttons, hastily doing them back up. “I... You're right.” He shook his head, his gaze taking in Tom's flushed face and the formerly-blue eyes so dilated they were almost completely black. “Shit! You're just so... just so... _irresistable_ now that I've finally touched you that....”

“Your mind shut down?” Tom laughed raggedly. “Believe me,” he said softly, “I know the feeling. I was almost too far gone myself.”

Chakotay straightened up, running his fingers through his mussed hair. “I need time to calm down, Tom.”

“I do, too, so let's just stay here a while. And keep our hands and lips to ourselves for the moment,” Tom said, grinning. 

“Hell,” Chakotay said, a wry expression on his face, “Can't you ask me to do something simple instead?”

xxxxx

 

Harry and B'Elanna were still sitting at the table when Tom and Chakotay returned, almost an hour later. 

The Captain had left straight after the men had. Swiftly draining her glass of wine, she'd just stood up and walked off without uttering a single word. B'Elanna and Harry had done no more than watch her go.

Now, as the men reached the table, its current occupants still seemed to be in a state of shock.

“You sit there, Chakotay,” Tom directed, manoeuvring the other man by the shoulders and pushing him down onto the chair next to Harry. “And I'll sit here,” he grinned, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. “That should solve our problem, for now.”

“For now,” Chakotay agreed. “But, we're going to have to find a more suitable solution in the long term; I've had enough of watching you from afar.”

“And across the table's too far?”

“Yes. Much too far.”

Tom nodded. “I think you're right. With the odd, _spectacular_ exception, you usually are.”

“Can I get that in writing?” Chakotay asked with a grin, “Minus the exception bit, of course. And have it framed?”

“You can have anything you want, Tay. _Anything_ ,” Tom replied solemnly. “Anytime you want it.”

“Hell,” Chakotay muttered. “Maybe across the table's not far enough.”

Tom laughed loudly, his eyes twinkling as they latched on to the dark ones opposite. “Wanna go and... discuss this some more, somewhere else?”

Chakotay nodded. “I think that would be the best option. Otherwise, bridge duty tomorrow isn't going to go too well, not with me having to be chained to my chair for the duration.”

Still laughing, Tom got up and held out his hand. “C'mon, Tay. Let's go, before things get worse.”

As they left, hand in hand, Harry and B'Elanna sat gawking after them, even further away now from regaining their powers of speech.

 

xxxxx

 

“I never thought I'd say this,” Tom commented as he and Chakotay walked along the corridor, fingers entwined, “but Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all.”

“I'm glad you think that,” Chakotay said, stopping and quickly kissing him. “And I'd have to agree.”

“All those years though,” Tom mused as they resumed walking, “We could have been together ages ago.”

“Maybe,” Chakotay said, looking thoughtful, “but I tend to think things usually happen when they're meant to.”

“So, it was meant to happen now, not before?”

“I think so. I think we're both in positions now to know what – and who - we truly want.”

“You mean, we've realised who we _don't_ want, is that it?”

Chakotay nodded. “Something like that.”

They stopped at the turbolift doors and waited, Tom quiet for a moment as he thought over what Chakotay seemed to be saying. 

“I think,” he finally said, “I understand. I've been attracted to you for a long time, Chakotay, but if I hadn't had the... flings... I've had on the ship....” 

He stopped and sighed, turning to grasp Chakotay's other hand. “I'm not good at explaining all this,” he apologised. “But the way I see it is, even though I've been with other people, the way I feel about you has never changed. If I hadn't been with anyone else, though, I wouldn't have realised just how _strongly_ I care about you. This moment, us getting together, might not have meant quite so much before.”

“Other temptations might have come between us,” Chakotay said, leaning in for another light kiss. “But they're all out of the way now.”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, “Just a match-making Captain to contend with now.”

Chakotay laughed, pulling Tom into the lift as the door opened. “I think after tonight the Captain just _might_ have got the hint that I'm not on the market.”

“God, that was fun,” Tom grinned, slipping his arms around Chakotay's waist and nuzzling his neck. “I'm glad you went along with it. I just hope it hasn't damaged the First Officer's reputation too much.”

Chakotay called out his deck number and the lift began to move. “It's about time,” he murmured against Tom's ear, “that the crew realise there's a man behind the rank. And that I'm as much entitled to have fun as they are.”

“Don't forget about love,” Tom said softly. “You're entitled to that, too, y'know.”

They kissed then, only stopping when the lift did and the doors opened. A little dishevelled, they exited and Chakotay took Tom's hand again and led him to his quarters, calling for the computer to set the lights to low as soon as they stepped inside.

As the door slid closed behind them, Chakotay pulled Tom to him, kissing him gently as he slowly backed him against the wall. “”If I recall correctly,” he said, his voice low, “our dance session finished somewhere about... here.” And with deft fingers he leisurely, this time, began to unbutton Tom's shirt.

Tom breathed heavily as his skin was exposed and stroked. The chain he wore was pushed aside as kisses followed, the ring tantalizingly grazing a nipple as Chakotay's mouth followed the gold band across his chest.

“God, Tay,” Tom whispered, as Chakotay kissed his way up to Tom's throat and lightly bit him, “I'm so hard already and you've barely touched me yet....”

He stopped talking then as Chakotay's mouth met his for a long, slow, exploratory kiss, his shirt disappearing as Chakotay slid it off and let it drop to the floor, the older man's hands moving behind him to caress his back and shoulders, the trail of warmth they left conversely making him shiver.

Moaning softly, Tom moved to divest Chakotay of his shirt, too, fumbling blindly with the buttons as Chakotay continued the kiss, finally freeing the other man of the garment by touch alone. As their bare chests met, Tom clutched at Chakotay's ass, massaging his cheeks as he simultaneously pulled the man closer to him.

“We need to move from here,” Chakotay breathed against his neck, “and soon.”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed softly. Bringing his hands to Chakotay's chest, he gently eased him away. “Somewhere with a bed would be a good choice, don't you think?”

“You read my mind,” Chakotay said, cupping Tom's face with his hands and gazing into his almost black eyes. “But, I want one more kiss first.”

Leaning forward, Tom took charge this time, bringing a soft moan from Chakotay as he was kissed deeply.

“Now, Tom,” Chakotay whispered urgently. “We need to move now.”

Grabbing Tom by the hand, he hurried him into the bedroom, both men kicking off their shoes the moment they reached the bed. With Tom's hands roaming his back, Chakotay's mouth latched onto the base of Tom's neck, sucking at the soft skin there before marking him with his teeth. As Tom's back arched at the sensation, Chakotay slipped his hands down to undo Tom's trousers, easing him down onto the edge of the bed as he freed Tom's legs.

“Lay back, Tom.”

Complying with the low-voiced instruction, Tom grasped Chakotay's head, threading his fingers through silky black hair, as his erection was repeatedly mouthed through the material of his shorts. “Oh, shit! Tay.... Fuck! I won't last.... Oh, _God_.... I won't last!”

Heeding the warning, Chakotay stood up, undoing his own trousers as Tom watched him from the bed. Pulling them down and off, he then quickly rid himself of his shorts and socks, momentarily kneeling to remove Tom's socks, too.

“Fuck. You're _gorgeous_ ,” Tom murmured, as he took in the wealth of bronze skin covering Chakotay's muscular body.

“No more than you are, Tom,” Chakotay whispered, taking the waistband of Tom's shorts in hand and gently easing them off. “My dreams didn't do you justice.”

Talking over for the moment, Chakotay climbed onto the bed and manoeuvred Tom until his head was on one of the pillows, their lips meeting again in increasingly urgent kisses as Chakotay positioned himself over Tom's body. The room was filled with the sounds of soft sighs and heartfelt groans, as the stimulating scent of arousal grew and heightened their desire.

“Love you, Tom. Love you so much,” Chakotay breathed against Tom's lips. “Want you. _Need_ you. _Now_. Can't wait.”

Tom closed his eyes, spreading his legs wide in invitation. “Do it, Chakotay,” he urged, opening his eyes again and capturing the intense dark ones above him. “Take me. Love me.” His hand slipped between their bodies and closed around Chakotay's erection, slowly stroking, as gentle fingers trailed downwards to his most intimate opening. Bending his knees, Tom lifted his legs. “Want you, Tay. Want you in me. _Want_ you.”

Kneeling up and reaching out towards the night-stand, Chakotay grabbed the tube of lubricant there and dropped it onto the bed. His hands gripped Tom's thighs then as he bent down and licked at Tom's balls, gently bathing them with his tongue and making the younger man groan with need. “Please, Tay.... _Please_! Oh, God, _please_!

As Tom's hands tightly gripped his shoulders, Chakotay uncapped the lube and coated his own fingers. “Soon, Tom,” he whispered, pushing one finger inside him. “It'll soon be me in here. Is that what you want?”

“ _Yes_....” Tom's voice was low and desperate, beads of sweat forming on his brow as Chakotay probed him, stretching him carefully with two fingers and then three. He pulled Chakotay's head towards his, kissing his lips over and over as Chakotay made him ready. “Please, Tay. _Please_. I can't wait. I _can't_....Need you now, Tay. Want you so much.”

“Help me, then, Tom,” Chakotay instructed, breathing hard, and lifting up so that Tom could reach him. “Use the lube on me. Spread it all over. Make me ready for you.” He groaned loudly as Tom complied, sensuously coating his erection before throwing the tube on the bed. “Now, Tom,” he growled. “I'm having you _now_.”

Matching action to words, Chakotay lined himself up, his hands pushing against the back of Tom's knees as he slowly, carefully, breached Tom's opening. Panting hard, he stilled, trying to control the almost overwhelming urge to climax immediately, Tom's hands clutching vice-like on his arms as he tried to do the same.

“ _Hell_...” Chakotay moaned, his eyes tightly shut. “ _Never_... never wanted _anyone_.... as much as I want you.”

Taking a series of deep breaths, he opened his eyes and watched Tom's face as he finally began to push further in, revelling in the love and desire he saw there as he slowly, completely, sheathed himself in Tom's body.

“Love you Chakotay,” Tom whispered. “Love you. Love you. Love you.”

Chakotay began to move as Tom continued his chant, driving in and out, hard, over and over until Tom was almost incoherent, his words becoming a breathy series of moans that mingled with Chakotay's own. As their breathing became laboured, Chakotay reached out for Tom's neglected erection, his insistent hand stroking and stroking until Tom could take no more.

Arching up off the bed, Tom cried out loudly, his eyes locked with Chakotay's as he came, Chakotay growling out his release less than a second later, their shouts of ecstasy echoing around the bedroom now scented with sex.

Collapsing forwards, Chakotay panted hard as he lay over Tom, the younger man breathing heavily beneath him as they recovered together.

“My God,” Tom finally said, raggedly, his hands running slowly up and down the sweat-drenched skin of Chakotay's back and sides, “We're so... so fucking _good_ together. I never expected... _never_... not that good....”

Chakotay wearily lifted his head from Tom's shoulder and tried to smile. “Next time...” he mumbled, “Be even better next time.... Won't be as much urgency.”

Tom laughed. “Fucking hell, Tay. If it gets any better it'll kill me! Honestly it will. I have _never_ felt that level of _wanting_ before, not in my entire life!”

“You get to take me next time.”

“Oh, shit!” Tom snorted, his low laughs rumbling through Chakotay's body as well as his own. “That's gonna go much the same as this did then.” 

Chakotay chuckled drowsily, rolling over to lay on his side next to Tom, his fingers idly playing with the chain around Tom's neck. “We'll last longer eventually,” he said, grinning. “Just a matter of time.”

Chakotay's fingers reached for the gold ring and Tom twisted to face him. “I never thanked you for that,” he said softly. “It's beautiful, Chakotay. I love it. Thank you.” He leaned forward to kiss Chakotay lovingly. “Would you mind if I wore it so it can be seen?”

“You mean, on your finger?”

“Yes.”

Chakotay's face was a picture of absolute joy. “I'd be honoured, Tom,” he said, sitting up. “But only on one condition.”

“Which is?”

Chakotay removed the chain from around Tom's neck and took the ring from it. “You let me put it on you,” he said, smiling.

“Will you wear yours, too?” Tom asked, pushing himself upright and smiling back.

Chakotay nodded and reached over the side of the bed to grab his trousers, taking his own ring from the pocket and putting it in Tom's hand. “Put it on me, Tom,” he said softly. “We'll do it at the same time.”

Tom held out his right hand, his left holding Chakotay's ring, Chakotay doing the same with Tom's.

“I hope, one day,” Chakotay said, “that I'll get to do this again.”

“Again?” Tom queried, as they began to slide a ring on to each other's finger.

“On the other hand, Tom,” Chakotay replied softly. “If you ever decide you want it there.”

Tom blinked and swallowed hard, unable to speak as Chakotay's words sank in.

“From me to you, Tom,” Chakotay said, sliding the ring to the base of Tom's finger. “With all my love.”

And leaning forward, he met Tom's lips in a tender kiss.


End file.
